


Smell

by SherlockIsBored



Series: Senses [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Finding Peace, Gen, John - Freeform, John cares a lot, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Revelation, Sherlock - Freeform, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Feelings, five senses, sensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockIsBored/pseuds/SherlockIsBored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of mini-fics that explore John's adoration of Sherlock through his five senses. I almost read it as an unintentional love letter. (5 total, of course)</p>
<p>First fic, would love feedback!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smell

There are smells I will always associate with you, but I’m not sure where I will ever encounter them outside of 221B. I can smell of disinfectant mixed with the earthy remnants of whatever experiment you were working on last. The scent of burning rugs and corroded metals, while not something that should ever be associated with a kitchen will be forever etched in my mind.

I can smell when you’ve been playing your violin. The rosin dust floats in the air. It smells the strongest when I stand where you played last.

When you stand close and allow me into your space, that’s when I can truly appreciate you. I’ve learned your personal scent, did you know that? I could find you blind if needed. I hope it never comes to that, but you are so imprinted on my mind that I know I will never forget. Your shampoo smells like rosemary and lemon. Your body wash matches your cologne; earthy and rich with a touch of sandalwood and leather. Underneath, you smell of your constant experiments and something that, while indescribable, cannot be classified in any category that is not uniquely you.

Your smell changes during the day too, did you know that? When you wake up I catch a whiff of rich cotton and the musky tang of sleep-sweat. During the day you carry your expensively scented battle armour of shampoos, colognes and other products that keep your image well-maintained. The evening is best, though. Once you’ve climbed those seventeen steps and settled in, you smell like home: experiments and leftover curry, tea and intimate conversations with your violin.

While you are never a benign presence, and even though you’re not always here, being able to sense you brings me peace. Even after you have swept off, when the game is back on, this place that we call our home still holds echoes of you.

One day, you will hopefully see how even these things bring peace to a man who actively sought out war.

I hope.

I doubt.

But you still smell like home, Sherlock.


End file.
